


Never Would've Guessed

by marukun, PInsomn



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alchemy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Magic, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-05-15 07:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14786294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marukun/pseuds/marukun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PInsomn/pseuds/PInsomn
Summary: No one knew what they would become in the future.  They themselves were not prepared for the heartache they would feel for their decisions made in the past, or the stain of regret they would carry like hot blood splashing their hands; making their swords slip in their grasp.  Leaving them with a constant taste of bile in their mouth, the ever burning acid in their throat.  Every breath they took weighing heavily on their chest as if someone were perched upon their sternum, hand clenched around their throat like a vice and bearing down with a maniacs grin their only sight.





	1. Chapter 1

_ The worst nightmares get us when we feel safest. _  Ichigo Kurosaki would have never guessed in all his twenty-two summers that what he once thought of as the meaningless ramblings of an old man, his previous swords master, would come back to become his foothold against the weight of war .  Old Man Zan’s words bounced around in his mind like a ricocheting arrow off a sturdy shield. Though this was not a nightmare at all, this was reality. This was very much real.

The pain from his damaged left eye wouldn’t let him try to escape from this reality, nor would the ache in his limbs caused from a long, hard fought battle that seemed like it would never end.  Pleas for aid cried out like a swarm around him, but there was nothing he could do for his lost comrades-in-arms, not when he was still trying to keep his head on his shoulders.

Suddenly his armor felt like it weighed infinitely more than when he had donned the equipment, it’s prior unblemished steel bent inwards in several places, the most evident being the concaved fracture threatening to embed itself into his collarbone.  He doubted when he got back to camp he’d even be able to take off his crushed left gauntlet, not without the blacksmiths help, though that was  _ if _ he made it back.

“Captain  _ please _ !”  Someone gurgled from his left as he was knocked backwards onto his ass.  He ached to assist his comrades, many of which he had spent countless nights with talking in their camp.  About home, their families if they had any, their profession they held before the draft. They never talked too deeply, each one aware that becoming too close with one another may make the other vulnerable were they to fall in battle.

Ichigo glared up at the sky, his sight abandoned in his left eye and blurred in his right.  He was becoming sloppy but his enemy seemed to have an unwaning amount of stamina. This was his fault, this was the result of his sleepless night, the death of his comrades was his consequence and their cries for aid were his punishment.  His burden to hear as he fought to prevent his own death.

The clash of his blade against his opponents was swiftly becoming familiar, the jarring power wielded behind the man’s javelin making the muscles in his arms feel numb from the vibrations, he was being played with.  This match had long been decided and instead of ending this swiftly the man donned in black armor toyed with him like a cat with a cornered mouse.

An arrow split through the air like lightning, slamming into the chestplate of Ichigo’s armor and knocking him once more onto his back.  His helmet flew off upon impact but he did not feel fear from losing the item. Instead he felt relief to have the item off, for it allowed him to see the grayed sky clearer and he was grateful that he would be able to see it this one last time.

His amber eyes lingered not on the bloodied bodies surrounding him, but instead rose to the snow covered mountains behind his opponent, his enemy, his bringer of death.  A serene calm swarmed in his mind as the acceptance of his fate filled his mind. Ichigo was not shocked by his acceptance of his end, he was only sad to have to go so soon.  To leave behind what was left of his family, knowing his younger sisters spent their days waiting to hear word from him of how he fairs, and that the news of his passing would devastate his father who had lost his wife, Ichigo’s mother, so early in their marriage.

“Ah… I will miss living.”  He whispers to no one in particular, his native tongue rolling eloquently off his tongue as though he weren’t too out of breath or too tired to speak it.  An ache burned hot in his throat, he did not want to go.

An ominous silence greeted him as his reality came crashing back with the crunch of snow under an armored boot as his opponent approached.  Closing in on where he lay still, breath curling into puffs of white clouds before disappearing shortly only to be replaced by another cloud when another breath passed through his lips.  A moment later his view of the mountains was blocked by the blackened armor of his enemy.

“End your game, Deathbringer, I’ve not the energy to continue this.”  Ichigo bit out, though the weakness in his voice had his command sounding like a strained plea.  He was met with silence as a response aside from the grating of armor shifting against itself with the man moved closer, the knelt beside his fallen form.

Ichigo desired to put distance between himself and his enemy almost immediately, he did not like the shift in the atmosphere that the man carried with him, but he could not move.  His rush taking a dive as the pain of his wounds soared in its place. He felt powerless and he disliked that very much, but he wondered at that moment what it mattered if he was already accepting of his end.  If this man wouldn’t kill him then the blood loss would, or the arrow currently buried in his chest. The only difference was the time it would take for him to bleed out as opposed to the swift end a sharp blade would bring him.

“Do you wish to keep your life?”  His enemy inquired more or less casually, startling Ichigo from his dark thoughts.  His brows pinched together with suspicion, trying to find the reasoning behind such a question, though he had little to go on due to the man’s helmet being in the way.  He decided as pain wracked his body, that he had no true reason not to speak plainly with his enemy. He never had to chance to do so before, he had nothing to lose.

“I do.”  Ichigo admits quietly, a rueful grimace contorting his face. “Sadly I don’t see that happening.”

“Why not?”  Another plain question, Ichigo was beginning to sense the man would question him to death before the blood loss took him.  

“You are talking to me.”  Ichigo states matter of factly, as if his statement answered anything.  When he’s met with further silence he turns his head towards his enemy, his jawline digging into the dirt smearing away some of the crusted blood.  “If I am not dead, then I am a prisoner.”

There’s a harsh chuckle that comes from behind the man’s helmet that causes fear to crash into Ichigo’s frame like the arrow earlier had.  His fear only continues to grow as he watches the man reach up and take off his helmet. His amber gaze is greeted by the man’s vibrant blue hair, the color reminding him of the spring back home.

“Make your choice then.”  Ichigo watches the words form on the blunet’s lips, but he’s surprised when they greet his ears.  He feels dread fill him as he’s offered the choice, he never thought the enemy would be so merciful.  He knew many on his side would not be. He’s torn in two over being made to decide, but he comes to his conclusion quickly.

“To die.”  He would rather die in this war than be taken prisoner.  At least his family would have closure then. His amber gaze follows the man’s movement as a dagger is presented from the man’s right boot, he looks skyward as the man shifts to shadow his body, dagger poised to strike.  Though the blow he was expecting never came, a blow he was not expecting however did and he screamed in agony as the dagger pierced his armored hand, anchoring him to the dirt as his legs kicked against the pain with energy he did not think he had left.

When blackness began to consume him, Ichigo’s thoughts were solely focused on the dagger.  Piercing his swordhand. He couldn’t even call the man a liar, for he indeed granted Ichigo’s request.  He did die in a way, he would never hold a sword again. His life as Captain, would be Commander, Kurosaki had come to a close.


	2. Battle Weary

[Before]

The relationship between the countries had always been fragile, teetering on the edge like a awkwardly balanced blade that was edge heavy but hadn’t tipped over just yet.  Until it did. 

Neither side fighting this battle could remember the exact moment war had broken out, rumors spread that it was caused by the messy slaughter of a town in Hueco Mundo that tipped the scale, many would argue that it was the burning of the Soul Society’s farmlands along the border that sparked the hostilities between the neighboring countries.  Nobody, not even the soldiers fighting the war could tell you which it had been, just that something had happened and for duty’s sake neither would back down.

Captain Kurosaki Ichigo was battle weary.  He, like many others, hadn’t had a break since the beginning of the war.  Where one battle was settled others sprung up along the border, calling him and his men back into action.  Before they could even catch their breath they’d be packing up camp and moving to the next location to provide reinforcements to the struggling troops who had been stationed there.

Unlike him many of his soldiers slept soundlessly, the noise of snores filtering through the thin material of his provided shelter.  He was homesick again, which was why he found himself staring at the darkened roof of his tent instead of the back of his eyelids. What was supposed to be  _ tomorrow _ morning would arrive in two hours but no matter how much he tried to force his body to sleep, since he would need it for tomorrow’s battle, he couldn’t.

They’d set up camp only a handful of hours ago, most of his men had been dead on their feet and most had been willing to set out their bedrolls and save the unpacking of camp for the morning.  Ichigo had persuaded them to do otherwise and  _ that  _ must have been the point where he messed up.  He had been ready to curl up and sleep after their arrival as well, but instead he had pushed the point of comfort and security to the soldiers in his squadron, all three dozen of them.  

_ No _ .  He shook his head then rolled onto his side.  He’d messed up long before tonight. This whole war was messed up.  The pointless fighting, them becoming the instigators instead of the peacekeepers.  That’s what was messed up. Causing countless, pointless deaths was messed up. All for Sokyoku Hill.  What would either country have to gain from invading a  _ sacred _ place?

A place where runaways, outcasts, and strays sought refuge.  Ichigo just couldn’t agree with fighting this war over a land that’s rumored to be the most beautiful place in existence.  A place where he’d never been to, never seen with his own eyes. He sighed again, louder this time as he restlessly kicked his bare legs out from under his blanket.

For all he knew Sokyoku Hill was a myth itself and it was an excuse to wage this god awful war. Real or not real?  That was the question plaguing Ichigo’s heart. If it was, then what was there that was worth the price of this merciless war?  What would benefit them from continuing this fight? Why -

Ichigo growled under his breath, tired of this line of thought and all the haunting ideas that plague his mind every night when he tries to close his eyes.  His blood felt cold in his veins as he laid there looking up to the peak of the tents roof, just beyond he would be able to see the stars and the moon. He tried to imagine it.

A glittering sky, full of twinkling stars that seemed both too far and too close at the same time and then the brightest of all amongst them.  The moons, two of them. Shining vibrantly side by side, companions of nature. He longed to reach out to them, to try to grasp them like he did when he was younger.  Believing above all else that he could eventually reach them.

He found his hand reaching out to do just that and he blinked.  Once, twice, a third time but the stars weren’t there and he knew they weren’t any closer.  That they never would be. His heart ached in his chest. It was symbolic, his fixation on the sky and the twin moons.  His goals were always spoken towards the sky, a promise to rise above and meet them above all others. He believed so strongly that every star held at least one of his wishes.

They glowed each night and each night Ichigo remembered the promises he’d placed on their vibrancy.  He longed for change and that’s why he fought, why he promised and hoped for something different. Something better, someone… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up losing my motivation for this fic for a little while and it was really hard just to write it. I'm one of those writers who wants everything to be perfect and to add a lot of details which makes me sometimes lose sight of my end goal for my stories. So I'm keeping my updates small for now, just enough to cover what needs to be told in the story.  
> I also ended up losing track of my notes and plans for this fic, so I'm going to be trying for a different scenario and my updates may come slower than other writers - just a heads up.  
> Thanks for sticking with it and for all the kudos.


End file.
